I am, of course, referring to the ‘Vibrator of Death’, an sf story by “Harold J. Richards, PhD.” in 1928’s Amazing Stories Quarterly.
Immediately drawn to a story about a vibrator of death (who wouldn’t be) I was not at all disappointed to discover that it was a tale of a giant vibrating machine. This, I felt, was an essential addition to my old magazine collection.
To whet the excited reader’s appetite, the editor tells us:
“Vibration, our scientists tell us, is life. Where there is no vibration there can be no life. On the other hand, too much vibration, as we all know is likely to prove disastrous. Anyone who has been shaken back and forth rapidly for a length of time will testify to this simple statement. This fact is well brought out in the present story written by a well known scientist, and we know you’ll enjoy it.”
Well, with such a recommendation [the bit about being shaken rapidly amuses me greatly], and the promise of a tale of the rapid vibrations of the (and I quote) “swaying thriller” that provides the “vibration of a lifetime! Feel the new sensation!” how could I resist? If any scepticism remained it was soon quashed. The questioning Andrews looks on the vibrator and wonders “how can anyone enjoy…?” only to be interrupted by a friend who tells him “you have to use your imagination. It embodies motion, novelty and sudden change, which are the root of every successful amusement device”.
Wow, the root of every successful amusement device eh? Cool. The only problem is, as the story proves in its lengthy scientific passages, too much thrill will (literally) make your heart explode. That’s right, “the physiological effect of vibrating too rapidly” means that “as soon as the speed of the thriller reaches a certain limit the changes in direction…means that the heart [will be] bumped forcibly against the walls of the thoracic cavity, and finally the valves will burst” resulting in “spurts of blood”.
Oh dear – that doesn’t sound good.
It turns out though, that “any skilful scientist” could easily predict such a misadventure. Conveniently for us, the protagonist works out the “vibration of a rigid shaft as a function of its rigidity and distribution of weight [in] a mathematical study.” He finds that “in a mathematical investigation 3798 pounds of material must be removed from the upper part of vibrations per minute… the upper part of the shaft contained a hollow space of 45 cubic feet, and by simple division I ascertained that the material removed must have weighed 844 pounds to the cubic foot. In other words, its density with 13.5… Mercury has a density of 13.6 and I concluded that the hollow space had not been truly conical, as I had assumed in my calculations…“ …and on, and on, he goes, in a manner that’s really not very thrilling at all.
Actually, I don’t mind the fact that, as in this tale, so much old magazine sf was an excuse for mathematical or scientific discussions. The problem with this story, if I’m honest, is simply that it’s boring. It may be about a giant thrill machine, but it’s not a thrill to read.
So, it turns out that in every way, this vibrator really did, fail to satisfy.
Such a shame.
